


my skin will scream (please stop thinking)

by pocketgalaxies



Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: Body horror tw, F/F, Gen, blood tw, death tw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-12
Updated: 2015-07-12
Packaged: 2018-04-08 22:19:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4322898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pocketgalaxies/pseuds/pocketgalaxies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which LaFontaine didn't mean for any of this to happen, none of this was supposed to happen this can't be real it can't be</p>
            </blockquote>





	my skin will scream (please stop thinking)

**Author's Note:**

> {car radio, twenty one pilots}

Laura is screaming in your dreams.

Sometimes you’re in the crater, sometimes you’re underwater, sometimes you are alone, sometimes you are not, sometimes there is a roof over your head, sometimes rain runs down your arms, and sometimes you are surrounded by melting, suffocating fire.

But Laura is always, _always_ screaming in your dreams.

Behind your eyelids one morning, Carmilla is crying and the walls are on fire and Laura is screaming screaming screaming, and you wake up to the sunlight floating gently through your window and Perry cleaning your lab equipment.

She puts a test tube on the table before reaching for a beaker to dust, and you watch with dazed eyes as it begins to roll toward the edge. You can still hear fire crackling like loud, _terrifying_ ocean waves when you dart over to the table and catch the glass before it falls.

"God Perr, be a bit more careful, please?" you mumble, shaking your head forcefully to get images out of your head (screamingcryingcrashingburning).

"Good morning to you too," Perry greets back, gently taking the tube out of your clenched hand and setting it in the rack. "And I’m sorry. You know I’ve never cleaned your glassware before, usually you clean it yourself." You scratch your hair sheepishly, trying to ignore a pressing urge to rip it out of your scalp. (It wouldn’t feel good, but...right. It would feel right.) You settle for rearranging the beakers in front of you, to keep your hands busy.

"Yeah, it’s weird, isn’t it? One of the ash bunnies from the basement must’ve absorbed my love for science," you chuckle, choking back _something_. Beakers start getting pushed around more forcefully, more angrily, more fearfully, and then Perry takes off her gloves and puts her hand on your arm, which you can barely feel. You stop anyways. The world is blurry but you think she’s frowning at you.

"Sweetie, you’re blaming yourself for something you couldn’t control," she murmurs, running one hand through your hair. Her eyes are trembling with worry and you don’t remember what it feels like to _not_ be cold anymore, so you collapse into her shoulder and gasp, "She’s dead."

She’s dead.

You can still hear her screaming.

* * *

_The walls are starting to tremble. You can hear the anglerfish from a mile down the cave complex, struggling against the mouth of the crater._

_You bite your lip in concentration, adjusting your footing on the wall of the cave and hacking at the rock with a pickaxe. Over on the cliff edge, Laura carefully inches closer to you._

_"LaF, you need to come back over here before you fall off," she says urgently. You shake your head slightly, narrowing your eyes at the shining ore peeking out from inside the cave wall._

_"It’ll be fine," you reply distractedly. Laura sighs in exasperation when you start slashing at the wall again._

_The anglerfish screeches._

You startle awake with a dry throat, and you cover your face with your hands, and you cry.

* * *

Nobody has seen Carmilla for seventeen days.

Danny texts in your group chat with exasperation:

**She’s a total bitch, but I’m not about to pretend she’s okay. She has self-destructive tendencies.**

A few hours later:

**I’m really scared for her.**

Your phone keeps buzzing and buzzing and you throw it at the wall. The shattering sounds like a pickaxe on rock.

You curl up in your bed and guilt eats you from the inside out and you can only think to yourself, _it wasn’t worth it_.

* * *

A movie is playing on your laptop but all you can do is stare blankly with your head on Perry’s shoulder, and then Kirsch bursts open the front door with a frantic, "Guys, we found her!"

Danny comes in carrying Carmilla and everything is too similar to Laura’s video last semester and you’re guilty guilty guilty and Perry hastily clears her bed with shaking hands and you stand up warily because you don’t deserve to get close to Carmilla, you don’t deserve anything, _this is your fault_.

She’s groaning and there’s blood everywhere and you’ve just been covering your mouth in horror as Danny rips off her clothes and Kirsch feeds her blood and Perry runs for the first-aid kit. The pillowcase is crimson in seconds.

"She got hit by a car," Danny mutters, carefully looking at the wounds. "I have no idea if it was on purpose or not, but she was drunk." Carmilla is still moaning in pain and you’re still holding your breath.

Kirsch pulls at his hair anxiously. "Well what are we supposed to do? I don’t know medicine, D-Bear, and I’m pretty sure you don’t either."

Suddenly Perry is back and she shoves a white box into your chest, glaring. "You are going to throw your guilt out of that window and help the poor girl, so help me God," she demands. You nod timidly and she pushes you toward the bed, and you open the box with fumbling hands.

Carmilla has six broken ribs, a fractured left wrist, shattered left femur, internal bleeding in too many places, and there is _so much blood_ coming from her scalp somewhere. She’s groaning and her eyes are glassy and they keep rolling to the top of her head before coming back, and you’re crying so, _so hard_ , but you fix her up nonetheless because it’s the least you can do.

* * *

_"Laura, I love you but you need to hurry up. We’re running out of time," you can hear Carmilla warn desperately from around the corner. Laura grimaces._

_"Wow Carm, I really appreciate your brilliant timing and sincerity with the love confession." She giggles and you can hear a quick kiss, and then, "I love you too, but I can’t exactly yank them off the wall. Just give me a minute." Carmilla swears under her breath and Laura turns to you._

_"LaF, come on." You’re so close, just a few more hits with the pickaxe, just a few more._

_Laura leans back, running her hand through her hair. "How did you even get onto the wall like that?" A beat. "Can’t you look for a sample somewhere less life-threatening?"_

_"Can’t, this shit is rare," you mumble, reaching your fingers into the crack in the wall. You can feel your fingers scratching against the glowing residue, and you grin excitedly._

_One last swing of the axe, and you’re in business._

_"Got it!" you exclaim, and Laura exhales in relief._

_"Finally. Now can we go?" Samples in hand, you carefully step off the wall onto the edge of the cliff. Laura steadies you with her hands, and then steps back to give you some room._

_Suddenly everything begins to tremble. Laura steps back too far._

* * *

_screaming_

_screaming_

_screaming_

* * *

You wake up with _it wasn’t your fault_ in your head like a parasite, and you wish you could believe it but you know you never will.

It’s 3:27AM and you can hear Carmilla crying from the other room.

* * *

"How’s Carmilla?" you ask, rubbing your eyes and slumping into a chair at the table. Perry glances at you from the kitchen sink.

"She’s doing well. Surprisingly so, actually." You shrug.

"I’m not surprised. I did some research before and I’m pretty sure vampires have accelerated healing abilities."

"Well, I suppose that explains it," she replies nonchalantly, sitting down across the table and setting a plate with toast in front of you. "You, though, need to eat something. I’d rather only worry about the well-being of one person at a time."

You raise your eyebrow but she only narrows her eyes in response, so you reluctantly pick up the toast and take a dignified bite. She smiles softly once you swallow, and then leans forward and grabs your free hand, looking you in the eye.

"We’ll get through this, okay? You’re not alone," she says, and she sounds so sure of herself that you might be able to believe it. You can’t help but nod, and she stands up and kisses the crown of your head.

You take another bite and she chirps, "Good job, honey!" as she walks away. You almost laugh.

It’s probably the most miserable meal you’ve ever had, but you finish the toast and you feel a little better afterward.

* * *

_"No. No no no no no no no."_

_Carmilla rushes to where you’re standing, looking over the edge and falling to her knees. "No, this isn’t happening. This is not happening._ God _, this isn’t happening,_ no _." She’s frantic, repeating the same thing over and over and over and over again and your teeth start grinding against each other._

_You can’t hear anything, you can’t feel anything, Perry’s hands are cold as she grabs onto your arm, you can barely see anything where is Laura? Laura was here, Laura was just talking to you, she was just helping you get your balance you were going to go back to the house together you were going to watch TV together where is Laura? where is laura  
whereislaurawhereislaurawhereisshe?_

_Carmilla disappears in a puff of smoke and you can’t help but look over the edge so, so cautiously, and you almost vomit for so many reasons at what you see._

_The bottom of the cave is 150 feet below you, covered in icy stalagmites. The tip of a spike is jutting out of Laura’s chest, her eyes are staring upward, mouth half open (screamingscreaming). You cannot breathe, you’ll never be able to breathe, Laura isn’t breathing and now neither can you._

_You watch in horror as Carmilla slowly approaches the pool of blood on the ground, and you think you can see her shaking from all the way up here, and she cradles Laura’s head like it’s the holiest thing in the world, and Laura isn’t moving, why isn’t Laura moving? She can’t be dead, she’s not dead, this isn’t real she’s fine Laura’s fine where is Laura?_

_When Carmilla’s howls start echoing up to your ears, you realize this is real, where is Laura she is dead Laura is dead you k i l l e d her you’re covering your ears and you’re screaming_

_screaming_

_screaming_

* * *

A few weeks after Carmilla recovers, you all go to the cemetery.

(Laura was the first person to ask you about pronouns, Laura was the only person who would agree to your crusades to the library, Laura was the only person you could talk to after a fight with Perry, Laura was the only person who understood your recklessness and your determination and your experimentation, and now Laura only exists in memories and in a carved name on a slab of stone.)

(She didn’t deserve this.)

You all gather around the tombstone and sit down on the ground, and Perry pulls out a little picnic basket with all of Laura’s favorite snacks. Danny chuckles and you can all hear her holding back tears but nobody says anything because you all feel what she’s feeling.

"I’ll never understand how she survived on such a fucked up diet," she mutters, looking into her lap and shaking her head.

Kirsch plays her favorite music and you all eat together, and everybody talks about her and smiles about her and laughs about her, and for one afternoon you don’t feel all that heavy.

But still, the smiles aren’t ear to ear and the laughs have undercurrents of tears and the stories always trail off with fidgeting fingers, and when you’re all about to leave, Carmilla mutters, "Fuck," under her breath and asks for some time alone. You give it to her.

Maybe time can make everything fuzzy, but time can’t make that tombstone disappear.

That night, you don’t have a nightmare but you wake up crying nonetheless.

* * *

Slowly you ease back into biology again, and at first your fingers feel like they’re burning every time you touch any of your equipment, they feel like they’re barely touching shining ore in a cave wall, they feel like Laura is about to die all over again.

Sometimes you’re pouring a solution into a flask when your ears echo with rocks falling and Carmilla sobbing and Laura screaming, and you have to set everything down as quickly as you can and take a long, long walk.

But every time you come back, Perry is waiting for you, and most times you can count on Danny and Kirsch being there too. As they recover from losing her, they help you recover too, and you realize that you are still lovable and you are still just as validly mourning her and you are still _you_.

Sometimes you have nightmares with fire or drowning or falling, and sometimes you wake up with puffy eyes and a sore throat, but JP is always there with plenty of conversation to fill the sleepless nights, and somehow the screaming starts to fade when you thought it never would, and you think maybe you’ll be okay again.

* * *

You go and visit her grave a few months later on a morning when you feel like the air is especially clear and your breathing is especially steady, and you aren’t surprised to see a panther curled up next to the tombstone, sleeping peacefully.

You just want to sit there for a while and gather your thoughts after too long caught up in guilt and depression, so you don’t bother waking her up. Instead, you just settle down on the grass and listen to leaves rustling in the trees and birds chirping across the sky.

After a few minutes, Carmilla opens one big, sleepy cat eye to look at you, and then she stretches out with a gigantic and mildly terrifying yawn and shifts into a human again.

Fortunately, she looks healthy and she isn’t wearing the same thing she was the last you saw her (which was too long ago), so even though you have literally no idea what she’s been doing, it’s nice to know that she’s taking care of herself.

"You’re doing well, I see," you greet with a nod. She shrugs with a small smirk.

"I could say the same for you," she says before rubbing her eyes a little and glancing at the tombstone behind her. She smiles lightly, her fingers trailing over the name ever so gently, and then turns to you.

"Do you mind?" she asks as she moves to sit next to you. You shake your head and move over a little, handing her a bottle of water. She looks at it for a second in amusement, but takes it anyway.

"You didn’t consider what would happen if someone came into this place and saw a full-grown panther?" you ask, and even you’re surprised at the humor in your tone. Carmilla barks out a laugh, drinking some water.

"The sun isn’t as much of a bitch when I’m in that form. I don’t care if anyone sees me," comes the reply. That’s a valid enough answer, you figure, and the two of you fall into comfortable silence.

Suddenly you realize that Carmilla loved Laura and _you_ had too much to do with why Laura is buried underneath the ground now, and it feels almost unfair that she’s being so nice to you.

"Why haven’t you killed me yet?" you ask, genuinely curious. You stare at your shoes, waiting for an answer. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see her turn to you, probably in bewilderment.

"What?"

"If I were you I would’ve killed me a long time ago," you mumble, knocking your shoes together. "We’re here because of me. _She’s_ here because of me." You jerkily gesture in front of you. After a few seconds, Carmilla leans back to look at the sky, clicking her tongue in understanding.

"Alright, maybe your obsession with science can be a bit too much sometimes," she says, and you scoff to hold back the tears you haven’t needed to hold back for a while. "But I’m not going to kill you just because she stepped on a rock that a goddamn fish shook loose."

"Why not?" You’re almost indignant. She looks at you, maybe impressed with your adamancy.

"Look, I know what this whole self-blame thing feels like, okay? I know you think everyone is subconsciously pointing fingers at you, and I know you think everyone hates you, and I know you think I should teach you a lesson, whatever that may be. But that’s a pit of guilt, not responsibility, and it’s not endless. You can already see the exit, can’t you?"

"What’s your point?"

"My point is you’re wrong. If you’re going to try tracing the blame, it doesn’t stop at cave sampling. Death isn’t ever a single person’s fault. Loss isn’t ever black and white. There are too many factors to take into account with this kind of thing, and it’s not worth it to try and map it all out."

You don’t have anything to say to that, so instead you look at the sky thoughtfully, ignoring the tears welling up in your eyes. For once, you don’t care to suppress them. After a few long seconds, Carmilla nudges your shoulder.

"I know how this goes because I learned the hard way, and I turned out fine." She tilts her head with a grin. "For the most part." She pulls out a napkin from your bag and hands it to you, and you don’t have the energy to laugh.

"I’m sorry," you mumble, wiping your cheeks. Carmilla shakes her head.

"Stand up. The world has a lot to offer."

When you look at her, there are tear tracks, but she’s smiling too. You give her another napkin and she takes it with a silent chuckle.

"We’re okay, aren’t we?"

"Yeah, we are."

You think this is what Laura would’ve wanted.

**Author's Note:**

> Completed: 7/11/15 21:52


End file.
